Chapter 481

Isabella glanced up to see Sophia hurling the food container across the room. The plastic lid popped off, scattering rice and vegetables over the linoleum.

Sophia clawed at her own hair, pulling strands loose from her ponytail. Her eyes were wild with frustration.

"I can't do this anymore! This room smells like disinfectant and misery. I refuse to sleep propped up in that plastic chair again. And this slop they call food? Unacceptable! I need proper lobster. I need to feel human again!"

Eleanor moved to comfort her, hands fluttering nervously. "Darling, you must be patient. The authorities are tracking Victoria across six continents. They'll find her. We just need to hold on a little longer."

"Hold on? With what? Hope?" Sophia's laugh was brittle. "What if she's already blown through everything? What if there's nothing left when they finally catch her? I'm done with this pathetic existence! Fix this, Mother! You have to fix this now!"

A heavy silence filled the room. Gregory shot a venomous look toward Richard and Eleanor. "Look what your family's incompetence has brought upon us. Clean up this mess. That other daughter of yours—the Montgomery heiress. She's rolling in money. Find her. Make her pay for decent accommodations. At least get us out of this hospital hellhole."

Eleanor's head snapped up, a sudden idea flashing in her eyes. She turned to Richard, her meal forgotten. "She's right. Isabella! That ungrateful wretch we took in. This has her fingerprints all over it. Victoria would never do this. She loved us! Isabella must have threatened her. Forced the transfers. Maybe even... eliminated her afterward?"

Richard went rigid, the color draining from his face. The unspoken horror of it settled over everyone.

Penelope shot to her feet, the plastic chair screeching. "Of course! It makes perfect sense! Victoria was the heir. Why would she throw that away? Risk prison? Unless she had no choice! That Montgomery viper! She could have arranged the whole thing! She could have had her killed!"

The air grew thick with dread. Just as Theodore drew a breath to reprimand them, the attorney burst through the door, disheveled and breathless.

"I found something! In the waste bin... pieces... I pieced them together..."

Eleanor snatched the reconstructed page from his trembling hands. The family crowded around, their breaths held.

The handwriting was frantic, desperate.

Why... why wasn't I born a Montgomery? Why is my entire life a lie balanced on a knife's edge?

This constant fear of losing it all is torture! I'm losing my mind!

What gives you the right, Isabella? Just blood? You want to steal the twenty-three years of love I earned?

Why didn't you just die in that damned village?!

Victoria's breakdown was etched in every jagged word. She'd torn the evidence of her turmoil to shreds, a futile attempt to hide her crumbling sanity. The attorney's meticulousness had unearthed her secret.

The paper trembled violently in Eleanor's grip. Her world tilted on its axis.

Victoria... wasn't hers.

Isabella... was?

Impossible.

She had cradled Victoria, had fed her, had soothed her nightmares. Isabella was the charity case, the child from the trash.

This couldn't be real.

Richard stood frozen beside her, his mouth agape, unable to form a single word. The truth was a physical blow.